The Life Saver
by Sophiepicklegirl
Summary: A brief one-shot based on a what if scenario. Gentle meanderings of an old man and what he has done to ensure his own place in history before he gets ready to join in the festivities at a day that would never have happened if he hadn't saved a small boy from drowning, many years before.


**I know, I've done it again! Another story rattled off my frantic fingers in the middle of Tired of Trying. Trou****ble is, this one screamed at me to get it out so here it is!**

**I hope you enjoy - please let me know what you think!**

**;o P**

I slip into the back corner of the serene, empty church and kneel down as if to pray. I have many things to be thankful for but today is not about me but about what has been achieved because of me.

I make some cursory comment to my Maker, thanking him for the day that has only just begun then sit back up on the warm, softly worn wood and take in the scene around me.

This is my favourite church and in my many years on this earth I've seen my fair share. Some grand and filled with ancient, silent dust motes and history, so much history. Others with paint so new you could smell it as if it was only finished the day before. But none have filled my heart with such joy and peace as this one does.

My ancient bones ache today for some reason and the warmth of the building in which I now sit wraps around me, taking away some of the stiffness. I take a deep breath, inhaling the incense that lingers in this hallowed space and my mind empties of everything for a moment.

I sigh at the sheer joy of the peace that surrounds me.

As I near the last few winter years of my existence, my mortality weighs heavily on my soul. When I was merely in my early autumnal years, I often wondered what I had done that anyone would ever remember.

Until then I was just another nameless soul who flew the skies over England in my beloved spitfire in the dark nights of the Blitz.

I was just another man who worked in an office, shuffling papers to earn a living then went home every evening to a table for one.

I was just another ordinary citizen of earth with no real story to tell.

Then one day I did something remarkable.

I saved a small boy from drowning.

And because of this, in a round about way, my legacy will continue.

I look up from my reveree to see a pair of bright fresh eyes staring at me, concern etched on a young woman's face. I smile and nod to silently assure her that I am ok.

She seems relieved as she moves away, her arms full of pale green ivy which she sets about draping round several tall elegant pillars that lead up to the simple altar.

I smile as I realise time, once again, is slipping quickly through my now gnarled fingers. I look down at my hands, once so strong and straight and remember the small coffee coloured child I pulled from the freezing water. His large brown eyes that seemed to belong to a boy wise beyond his years.

I remember the almost nod he gave me as his frantic parents rushed over to thank me before engulfing us both warm blankets and moving us away from the scene of the crime...

Sudden noise makes me turn my head and I notice the room is now filling up with an army of florists who set about adding soft white, pale pink and blue flowers to the delicate foliage placed around and about earlier. The floral decorations are everywhere and although they should be too much, somehow they are just right.

Matching sprigs now hang from the ends of the pews and large explosions of colour now flank the space between the columns and the stairs to the altar.

I stand up to stretch my legs, smoothing the fabric of my trousers. I am glad I came in early to watch.

Watch as the church is transformed for this most wondrous of all ceremonies performed here.

Watch as the transformation mirrors the relationship that has led to this day. Gently and lovingly created after careful planning.

My stomach growls and I chuckle to myself as I turn to leave. I need coffee and donuts and just like today's bride Boston Cremes are my favourite.

As I walk back towards the door I notice a box full of order of service sheets. Carefully I pick up the top copy and open it to see what that once young child has chosen for his wedding service. A quick glance tells me all I need to know and I quickly and quietly return it to its container.

That once young child is now a man. Tall and strong. Duty bound and trustworthy. A dedicated soldier decorated and honoured at the highest levels and now, finally, a pillar of the community and astute business man.

Sure he had a wobble or two on his way, as did his relationship with the woman he is about to marry, but I have been there for him over the years when he's needed me and now I find it is him that lends his strong hands to my weaker ones.

I leave silently, pleased that I have left my mark on the future by the act that I performed so many years ago.

As I vacate the premises to ready myself for the festivities ahead, I hear the sounds of music as the organist practices the pieces he will be playing at Carlos' wedding to the lovely Miss Plum.

I lift my rheumy eyes upwards and see the cloudless sky. I smile.

My work here is done.


End file.
